


Ghuairneáin

by LycheeCannon



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:04:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycheeCannon/pseuds/LycheeCannon
Summary: Silmaria, daughter of the richest man in Faerghus is arranged to marry prince that wants nothing to do to with her.Requests here: bbnoodles.tumblr.comTalk to me here: https://twitter.com/BbNoodles1





	1. Monastery in the Distance

Garreg Mach appeared over the horizon a looming citadel over the underlying valley floor. Tall spires and rushing falls peeked through the morning fog, a giant in the distance. 

A small procession trudged towards the monument, one leading rider with a wagon and two other mounted soldiers riding close to the tree line but still on the main road.

“How much longer?” Silmaria asked from the back of the caravan, she’d been confined there for days after a bandit attack only days after they’d left the Fhirdiad on the King’s Road and had taken her horse and broken her arm and sprained her ankle. There had been no casualties but her guard was ever hypervigilant in the ensuing week, constantly worried that another ambush was coming. 

But they’d been lucky. Silmaria and one other knight had been injured with no casualties; both had taken to sitting in the back of the caravan with their supplies for the duration of the trip—the extra horse dutifully relegated to helping pull the wagon, taking turns with their energetic mule to speed up the pace that they could move. 

The rumbling of the wheels over the plains occasionally sent sharp jolts of pain through her arm, the makeshift split they’d fashioned over her leg was a little too tight and her extremity had been too swollen to put on her boot the entire trip. She hadn’t been able to heal herself due to the extent of her own injuries which only served to make her antsy and eager to arrive at their destination. Her ankle was almost back to normal but one of the bones in her right arm had snapped and would need to be rebroken and mended at the monastery.

“Maybe by sundown? If we swap out Gendry and Milly maybe even earlier—” Jeralt mused as the mule nickered at its name, seemingly eager to be relieved of wagon duty. “Have you ever been here before?” He turned an inquisitive eye towards the girl, she smiled sheepishly at him and shyly twirled a lock of ultramarine hair with her uninjured hand. “I hear that most people have to petition for years to be allowed to visit Bath, this place much seem duller by comparison.”

“No, this is my first time. My father kept me at the Royal School of Sorcery so I could be home more often now that Grandmother is ill. Bath isn’t so interesting, it’s just an island with limited space.” Silmaria tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and pulled her fur cloak a little tighter around here body. “I wonder if Dimitri will be happy to see me… I hear he’s in your son’s house?”

“Yes! Byleth is the house leader of the Blue Lions though he’s basically a child teaching children.” Jeralt laughed good naturedly. “It seems like just yesterday he was toddling around picking fights with alley cats in Remire.”

Silmaria smiled, eyes crinkling at the thought of a small Jeralt dueling a cat walking upright. 

To her left, Julie leaned back against the barrel she sat against, cradling her broken shoulder, chuckled and recounted a story of a young Byleth wandering into the woods and returning with a small cougar in tow that he’d stolen from a nest. “Things were much simpler when we were on the road. It was just our motley crew and a little tyke that went from being our mascot to our comrade. After Jeralt was conscripted again, we passed leadership of the company to his second in command but many of us chose to go into service to the Church so that we could continue to fight alongside him. It’s certainly more glamorous than clearing out bandits but it’s really not so different.”

“Would your motley crew ever take a runaway? I’ve fantasized about running away from the court life and joining a mercenary group. Father keeps such a tight leash that the freedom of the road seems like a dream. This is the furthest I’ve ever even been from Faergus. I’d cook, clean, do anything you asked except for not get bucked off that disloyal stallion the silly stablemaster saddled me with.” Silmaria mused, face pulling into a sheepish grin. The group had a good laugh and settled back into the rhythm of the wheels, slowly letting the two injured people in the wagon to lapse back into playing a quiet game of cards while Jeralt lead the way and the two Faergus knights brought up the rear.

Silmaria hadn’t even realized she fell asleep until a gentle hand patting her shoulder stirred her into wakefulness. She yawned and blinked slowly to clear her vision. A great steel gate lay open before her, the two Faergus knights speaking with the watchmen as they exchanged papers. Jeralt patted her again, “Wake up, kid, we’re here and they’re going to take you and Julie to the infirmary up in the citadel while your knights and I get the horses settled and unload the wagon.”

“How are they going to transport us without the wagon? It seems the monastery is quite the walk up.” Silmaria scooted to the edge of the wooden platform, dangling her legs off the side and making a move to jump down—hoping that her ankle was strong enough now to bear the weight. She looked up at the towers and cringed at the thought of going up the stairs on her injured foot. At least Julie could walk unassisted, Silmaria couldn’t even fit her boot over her leg with the splint on. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Kid, don’t walk on it just yet. Byleth is grabbing a couple of his students to help you up and get your things.” Jeralt grabbed her shoulders, catching her just as she jumped and suspending her briefly in the air before setting her back on the platform. “We still don’t know if you broke your ankle or just sprained it and you shouldn’t take any chances.” He smiled good naturedly, “How are you gonna join my mercenary company if you’re a cripple?”

They shared a laugh and Silmaria settled back against the side of the wagon, watching the hustle and bustle of soldiers going about their daily business. The sun was getting low in the sky so the watch towers were lighting their flames and herding the rest of the people at the gates inside as they started to close them. She looked back at the caravan, taking note of her belongings: two trunks of clothes, funds, and books, a small knapsack of Faergus delicacies she’d brought to share with her countrymen, and a small dagger she always kept on her person tucked into the side pocket, its blue handle barely visible. She’d already shared some of the specialty food she’d brought with the two Knights of Seiros that’d come to Faergus to escort her along with her own knights, but still had a hefty amount left. She couldn’t wait to break open a wheel of fromage or dig into the bevy of preserves now that there was access to good bread. Her thoughts of meals now that she wasn’t on the road was punctuated by the sound of pattering feet and a hollering voice.

“Father! You’ve returned.” The man she assumed was Byleth stood tall and much older and more serious than she’d expected. He was not quite as large as Jeralt and honestly looked very much unlike him but she could see the similarities in the confident way he carried himself. “How was the journey?”

As Jeralt walked over to greet his son, Silmaria watched silently, soaking in the heartwarming scene of father and son reunited. Her family—like many in the north—was cold and distant. Court life was not suited for fun and games. Especially since her father was the Master of Coin and Lord of the Isles of Bath. He’d started as a bastard son of a minor lord but was acknowledged and claimed once he became massively successful as a merchant—the first to bring spices and teas from the neighboring continent of Valm to Fodlan. Briton Hud Abaris was not a man to be trifled with—at the tender age of sixty-five his own children were only fifteen and twenty-five from two different women. Both were long passed, one from plague, and one from bringing a child into the world.

Her brother, Brutus, had long graduated from the Officer’s Academy rather than the Royal School of Sorcery as his mother had given him a minor Crest of Gautier. He now served as the right hand to his father and had a son of his own.

Silmaria’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a familiar blonde coming down the city steps, his hair was sweaty and his uniform was slightly dusty, the two companions trailing behind him were in similar condition. It seemed that they’d just gotten out of combat training as their teacher was similarly disheveled. She leaned as far out of the caravan as she could and waved earnestly at Dimitri. “Over here!” 

He immediately turned and saw her; his face adopted the usual uncomfortable look it did when they had to interact. He was so endearingly awkward—the absolute antithesis of the suave prince most people saw day to day. He half-heartedly waved but froze as he scanned her visage—his eyes zoned in on her splints and franticly ran down the last few stairs up to her perch. 

“What has happened?” He questioned, placing a hand delicately on the splint and taking in her bootless foot. “Your father is going to be so cross with me.” Silmaria took the time to take in the close look at his face. He didn’t look much different since she last saw him six months ago but he was definitely taller and maybe even a little more muscular. She snickered to herself, he was still as handsome as always.

In the time he was examining her, his other two companions came up to the wagon and introduced themselves as Ashe and Ignatz. They seemed curious so Dimitri beat them to the punch. He coughed into his fist and cleared his throat nervously.

“This is my fiancée, Silmaria Leir Abaris.”


	2. Anyone But You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broodmares don't get opinions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to play around with some worldbuilding and story-setting. Do you think the dynamic that they don't get along works? Or would you prefer they like each other off the bat?

When the engagement had first been announced, the court accepted it as the most logical choice. 

The Abaris family had single handedly helped the nation fill its coffers after the exuberant spending of King Lambert’s father had strained the economy. Briton had risen up through the ranks of commoner to Lord, to member of the Kings Council in an unprecedented way and left many families clambering for a spot next to the richest family in Faergus and maybe even Fodlan. 

He was one of Lambert’s closest advisors and friends. They’d both lost wives to the plague and Lambert arranged a marriage with a close family ally from Gautier so that Briton could join the royal council and become a permanent fixture in court life. It only helped that the second wife, from Rhodos Coast, bore a daughter of a similar age to Dimitri. She had a Crest made from good breeding, she was cute as a child and beautiful as a young woman, and she was smart. By the time Dimitri was thirteen years old, he knew that she’d someday rule at his side. 

Silmaria was fine-boned and whimsical. She was small, never having reached above his shoulder in height. She didn’t fight and cried easily but forgave just as quickly. When Dimitri was young, he had no idea how to deal with her. So, he kept her at an arms’ length, always unsure of what to say, always eager to run off with his other playmates and his step sibling instead of interacting with her. With no intended to spend time with, no mother to speak of, no father with time on his hands, and no brother that was close to her age, no noble children loyal enough to play with her without the whisperings of their parents clamoring for her favor in their ears, Silmaria grew up with the characters from books and a supporter she didn’t expect.

When the Tragedy of Duscur took away the only father figure she had in life, she would pretend if she closed her eyes hard enough, King Lambert would come back with a lemon cake in hand and a lap to sit on while wildly recounting the dashing adventures of Lion King Loog or the epic romances of Garreg Mach’s Goddess Tower. But he never would. As time passed, she even forgot what his voice sounded like—only the faint unique smell of his stifling cologne.

Some would say that the while she remained a cheerful spirit, flitting from one hall to another in Fhiardiad then the Royal School of Sorcery, the smile never really reached her eyes ever again. 

Silmaria’s reverie was broken by Dimitri motioning her to get off the platform. She was a little disappointed, his first worry was that her father would be angry not whether she was alright. Her shoulders slumped and though Dimitri caught her in her downward motion, she took note of him holding her as far away from his torso as possible. He set her down gently and motioned for Ashe to come and support her when he noticed that the other two boys had each already picked up a trunk apiece with Ashe slinging the knapsack across his back. The blonde signed through his nose and slung her arm across his shoulders more roughly than he had to, making the white-haired girl whimper through her teeth.

“Dimitri!” Her arm stung badly and her injured leg made uncomfortable contact with the ground as she lost her center of balance. She could feel hot tears prickling at the edge of her vision. He let go of her at once and she crumpled in a heap. “My arm is broken and possibly my leg as well, please be more careful.” She looked up at him with wide violet eyes and he only nodded slowly with his brows furrowed, stooping over to hook one arm around her shoulders and another under her knees to pick her up. 

“Apologies! I’m so, so sorry my lady.” She could tell her was biting the inside of his mouth. Was she so disgusting that he couldn’t even bear to be in contact with her? He held his arms out in front of him such that she didn’t made minimal contact with his torso and he avoided eye contact with her. Silmaria thought to say something, but nothing came to mind, so she stayed quiet the entire walk up to the infirmary. When he set her down, she laid down in the tiny cot and turned away from him, willing away the tears that flooded her vision. She heard the creaking of the chair next to the bed as he sat down. The nervous tapping of his foot on the stone matching the quick pitter patter of her heart.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” She bit out through her teeth, trying to keep her voice stable. “Where are my things?”

“Ashe and Ignatz are bringing them to your quarters in the main building, since you are not a student you are not to be housed in the dorms.” Dimitri told her slowly, “I will ask one of them to show you to your quarters after you are released from the infirmary.”

Behind her turned back, Dimitri sat ramrod straight. His eyes flickering from his fiancée’s back and the door. Where was Manuela?

“Will you be here while they look me over?” Silmaria asked, even though she knew the answer that he would provide. Her heart fluttered hopefully when she heard him pause in his response. Maybe things would be different here?

“I—uh—am busy with training. Very much so… otherwise I’d…” He coughed, flustered. Her heart dropped. “I’m going to go get Professor Manuela so she can look at your wounds. I—” he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable “I will also send for some food for you, your father will be disappointed if he knew that you went hungry here.” Dimitri paused for a moment in the door way as he moved to leave. He looked like he may say something else but eventually sighed and went to shut the door.

There was always a feeling at the pit of her stomach—one that she rarely verbalized but usually felt to some degree. “I hate you.” She whispered quietly. He may have heard it but if he did, he pretended he did not. Women from stories married the men who professed their love at the Goddess Tower, she was just a pawn who became more helpless the stronger she became.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hang out in the comments section :) What'dya think? Suggestions? Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> How do ya like this? Should I keep going? Boring? Any and all opinions are welcome!


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